


Wild Ones

by little_fen



Series: Wild Things [1]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: ? - Freeform, Ancient Elves (Dragon Age), Angst, Arlathan, Cassandra - Freeform, Cole - Freeform, Cullen - Freeform, Dalish Elves, Dorian - Freeform, Dragon Age - Freeform, Dragon Age: Inquisition Spoilers, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fade Tongue, Flirting, I Should Stop Tagging, Inquisition, Iron Bull - Freeform, Lavellan Backstory, Minor Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus, Romance, Rouge - Freeform, Rouge Lavellan - Freeform, Spirits, Spoilers, Teasing, The Fade, Tragedy, Trespasser Spoilers, Varric - Freeform, Varric sees you two, Wingman Varric, Young Lavellan, all elves are mages but they dont know it, amongst other things, and varric is always outside the door and sound STILL echoes, did you see the tragedy tag, dorian definitely knows too, fair warning, has anyone else thought about the fact that dorian is above and sound echoes, he knows whats up, hes always in the rotanda, how would he not hear whats going on, i agree with others, just making sure, lavellan - Freeform, lavellan is a mage and she doesnt know it, like oh my god there is so much flirting, lots of camping conversations, so many conversations happened in DOA at camp, there's no point hiding it, these tents are not used nearly enough, think about it, vivienne - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2017-03-24
Packaged: 2018-08-31 16:11:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8585164
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/little_fen/pseuds/little_fen
Summary: An'aya Lavellan is a young Dalish rouge whose life has suddenly been turned 180 degrees after she was sent to the conclave by her Keeper. After an explosion caused by unknown origins, shes awaken to have a strange marking on her hand and captured by shems. After her captors realize she is innocent, they form the new Inquisition out to save the world with the power of her mark. She should be in utter despair and fear, but a mysterious apostate makes her feel more alive than ever before.~Mostly canon story of Dragon Age: Inquisition romance between Lavellan and Solas. Except Lavellan is much younger and their relationship starts out as a teacher/student sort of thing.  Notice there is No Warnings and is NOT Rated. Proceed in caution.





	1. The Hinterlands: Red

**Author's Note:**

> This takes place in the Hinterlands after taking care of the mage and templar fighting there. The story should be mostly cannon, but I might make it stray-I'm not too sure yet. I'll try and update at least once a month, but keep in mind I am in college -so that might not go according to plan. Otherwise enjoy!  
> All Elvhen comes from Project Elvhen, bless FenxShiral's heart.

An’aya Lavellan had closed her first rift in the Hinterlands. She was still a bit startled when the demons would appear, but she knew enough of the rhythm to keep track of the demons, the pockets that came up out of the ground, and her companions. One companion in particular she couldn’t seem to stop watching, Cassandra. She had never seen a templar up close and found the way she moved and redirected magic to be fascinating. Enough so that after closing the rift, and still watching Cassandra, she crashed backwards right into the apostate Solas. He grabbed her by the waist as she fell into him, still holding onto her he looked down and said, “You seem to have a sort of admiration for our Seeker, An’aya.” The corners of his mouth came up just barely into a smirk as he righted her up and whispered, “Infatuation perhaps?”

She immediately blushed, from Solas touching her so intimately or from embarrassment that he had caught her, she wasn’t sure. “NO!”she had yelled it just a bit too loudly; enough that now Cassandra and Varric were paying heed. “I just, I’ve never seen a templar before…” she lied to them. The truth was too painful and she did not want to think on it.

“Oh.” Solas’s face seemed to understand in an instant. “I too, have never seen a Templar up close, it is quite interesting how they fight. Very blunt, direct and efficient.” He turned his attention to Cassandra as they began to head towards the farmlands, “Though when you re-direct magic, you become quite vulnerable to physical attacks. How do you keep yourself protected while in that vulnerable state, Seeker?”

“You two have never seen a templar? Has your clan never come across them? And Solas aren’t you an apostate?” she asked in shocked disbelief.

“I am a very careful apostate.” A’naya saw that same slight smirk come across his face, if you weren’t watching him carefully, it would be missed altogether.

“Well, to answer your question, Solas. We train the Templars to watch each other’s flanks. Commander Cullen will be able to explain it better than I can.” She answered.

“We are taught to stay away from Templars, and we keep enough away from the cities that they tend to leave us alone."

“Got the same answer from a Dalish I knew, quirky girl,” Varric laughed.

“Wasn’t her name Merrill? I had met her at a few gatherings and runs in with her clan. We both roamed the Free Marches.”

“Have you read my books, Red?” Varric asked almost laughing, “I would have never imagined a Dalish would read them!” Varric insisted on calling her Red due to the color of her hair and his love of nicknames.

“I adore books, so of course I have read them. When we traded with humans I would always ask if they had books with them. Most of them were willing to just give them to me for nothing, most were shocked I could read in the first place.” An’aya laughed at many of the memories. If you would put your hand out while asking them for books, most would absentmindedly put them in her hand. It was a trick she learned from a city elf, who collected many things in her lifetime from that simple trick.

“For nothing, how did you manage that?” Varric asked with curiosity.

“A trick, and I won’t say anything more.” She winked at him for good measure.

“When we get back to Haven, I think you’ll have to teach me that trick.”

“Maybe.” They continued their trek through the hinterlands and completed the tasks that the horse master asked of them. For the life of her she couldn’t understand why they had to complete his daughters courses, but they did so anyway. After a full day they returned to camp with sore feet and muscles. Yet An’aya couldn’t have felt more awake. She had a sense of pride with the fact that she was doing good with the Inquisition. She wasn’t able to sleep so she quietly exited her shared tent with Cassandra and went to sit in front of the fire. Maybe she could put her energy to good use and try to untangle her wild curls. She was surprised to find Solas sitting beside the fire, tending to the flames.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked. Why he couldn’t sleep she was not able to guess, he looked utterly exhausted.

“No, I have too much energy at the moment. And you? Why can’t you sleep?” she asked earnestly.

“Ah. I would prefer not to answer that. Let’s leave it at bad dreams.” His facial expression masked with an empty smile and sigh. He appeared distant, as if he was far away from anything that was going on here. She could tell it would do no good to press on more, she stayed away from the topic.

“Where did you learn to read? I thought that information was kept to those who wield magic in your clans,” he asked suddenly..

“My mae was a first, she taught me the basics, and then I learnt on my own.”

“That’s quite impressive and resourceful of your mother. Dirthas elvhen?”

“Ma dirth elvhen, hahren,” she rolled her eyes at him. She had talked to him enough that she knew of his "disagreements" with the Dalish. It still annoyed her that he assumed she could not speak her own language.

“Ir abelas, I do not come across many of the Dalish that have a comprehensive knowledge of the language, da’len,” he challenged back at her.

“I am no da’len!” Solas laughed at her, a deep laugh that she had never heard from him before. She found it infectious and had to physically keep herself from staring and smiling like an idiot.

“If you keep acting like an angered child I will have to keep calling you that. Or would you prefer ma gra’lin, as Mr.Tethras calls you.” He looked straight at her as he said it with a much more visible grin this time. My red one, he had called her, a more intimate take on the nickname given to her by Varric. She knew he was teasing her, but it sounded more like an endearment.

“Call me what you will, I am used to the teasing.”

“I did not mean it teasingly,” he responded. “Thank you for the distraction. We should rest, the day will be long tomorrow. On nydha, ma gra’lin.” He stood up and pushed the flaps of his tent open to go back to bed. An’aya was thankful for the dark of the night, otherwise he would have seen her deep red blush.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> March 24th: Just an edit to the first part of the dialogue where An'aya says she has never seen a templar. Instead of this being the truth, I changed it to a lie she told in order to not go into detail of a prior experience. Also, the next chapter will be posted shortly.


	2. The Hinterlans Part 2: What Can Be Recovered

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Solas wake up from his troubling time in the Fade. Lavellan turns out to be the perfect distraction.
> 
> Solas POV of the last chapter, plus why he was so distraught when he woke up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Its been more than a week, I know. I am sorry. I'm in college guys, its bound to happen. Have some solas POV to make up for it.

Solas fade-stepped towards the remnants of the temple near the Cross Roads in Haven. What once used to be a beautiful hidden marketplace was now left in ruin. He could remember the bright colors of the stalls, the white walls and pillars, the light scent of spices in the air, the sound of people haggling the merchants. Now, what was left was crumbling stone, wet dank walls, and a home for the spiders. Centuries ago, he would have enjoyed stopping here during the summer when he would travel to Arlathan. He always found the most peculiar objects in this market, strange elixirs, rare tomes, and odd little trinkets made by the humans. A savage primitive people, but interesting enough to watch every so often. He almost laughed at the thought. “Savage” he once called them, now they covered every corner of the entire continent.

The Fade began to reflect on his memories and now the little market was before him. He sat on the steps and scanned the crowd. Finally, near a bright red stall he found himself. Of course he was wearing something flashy and attention grabbing. It was an extravagant silver armor on his body that reflected tones of blues and greens when the sun hit it. The armor was well-fitted to his shape and the robes of pale blue he wore over it flowed around him on their own. A trick of magic that had been popularly in fashion at the time. He found it odd to see his dark brown hair shaved only at the sides with dreads pulled back to the top of his head. Solas watched as his younger self sweet-talked the merchant woman into giving him another tome for half the price she asked for. The blonde, tall elf was eating out of the palm of his younger self's hand. He had been so cocky and self-assured at that age, it was a surprise he didn’t get into more trouble.

Something seemed odd about this memory though, as far as he could remember this was just another typical day. Why the Fade chose to reflect this was a mystery, there was no significance here, nothing of note, so why this day? When he had finally recalled the importance of note, it was too late to walk away and turn back. Behind young Fen’Harel, a noble man had hit his slave girl so hard she fell to the ground. Fen’Harel spun around almost immediately. The young girl was profusely bleeding from a gash on her head. She crawled onto her knees and began to apologize over and over, hoping to appease her master.

“You stupid bitch! Why must I keep reminding you to not wander off?!” The noble man grabbed her by the hair and yelled into her ears. “Do I need to take _another_ meal away from you? Or do you need more lashings? You stupid girl! You aren’t worth a fraction of what I bought you for!” The man then threw her to the ground again and kicked her in her side. “I would have you killed, but you aren’t even worth that much. I’ll just let you die at home.” No one in the market paid any heed to the man. He was only a noble punishing his slave. Solas, though, braced himself. The man went to slap her again, but Fen’Harel stepped in front of her to shield the blow. The slap hit him instead. “HOW DARE-” the man began to yell and then quickly flinched in fear at the sight of his face. Everyone in the market place was now staring.

“General Fen’harel, sir, forgive me. It was not my intention to harm you.” The man began to plead with him.

“No, your intention was to harm this poor girl, for what exactly?” Fen’harel looked positively feral as he grinned at the man in front of him, his eyes ablaze with anger. Solas grimaced at the memory. He had worked for so many centuries to end this sort of thing-and for what? For it to bite him in the back and become even worse. He pondered if his younger self would have worked so hard if he had known today’s world would be the outcome. Probably, he would have just worked harder to find another solution.

“She is my slave, sir. She keeps wandering off, I have told her many times-”

“Wandering off. You beat a girl for wandering off. Tell me, would you beat your child for wandering off? Your siblings? Your friends? Other nobles such as yourself?” he asked. The man trembled and slowly shook his head no.

“No? Really? What a shock?” Fen’Harel faked amusement and chuckled before using his magic to freeze the man from the chin down. “Do you know what I do to people who abuse their power over their slaves? Have any of your friends heard the stories?”

“I have heard rumors, sir.” The man began to sob, “Please, general, I didn’t-” Fen’Harel clamped the man’s lips shut with magic and tsked at him.

“Well then, you know what to expect.” His feral smile returned as he looked down at the man. He then turned to the general population of the marketplace. “Please do pay attention! Remember what Fen’Harel does to those who abuse their power! Let this be a lesson to you all.” Fen’Harel then moved his hands in opposite direction, letting the ice slice apart the man into horizontal pieces. Frozen blood, organs and skin fell to the ground in front of him. He stepped onto the remnants of the man for good measure and looked to nearest person. “I do expect someone to clean this up,” he ordered. He then turned to the young girl and picked her up, cradling her to his chest. Solas followed Fen’Harel into a grove where his younger self sat on his knees and began to heal the young girl’s wounds.

“Are you alright?” he asked. His features softened dramatically as he held his hands over her head, dousing her with his magic.

“I was told about you,” she said, her bright green eyes wide with astonishment. Solas remembered thinking she would be so pretty without that vallaslin. “I thought they were just tales, but it’s true! You have been freeing us,” she embraced Fen’Harel with all her might and began to weep thanks to him. The memory faded out and Solas was left standing in the grove by himself.

“Why was she crying?” a spirit in a vaguely elvhen shape suddenly asked beside him.

“She was relieved to be free from her chains.” He answered, the spirit slumped to the ground, knees crossed and looked up at him.

“I did not see any chains. What chains? And how can she be crying but relieved?” it asked. _Ah. A spirit of curiosity._

“Not real chains, metaphorical ones. She was bound to her master. She was a slave with no freedom of her own. He had freed her from that life. She was now able to live as her own person. People cry from any sort of intense emotion. It is apart of being alive.”

“I think I understand. Why had the other man hit her? Why was he yelling? Why was the girl… scared? Scared is the right word, yes? And why were you there?”

“The other man hit her because he thought he was entitled to do so. He owned her, and was therefore allowed to do to her as he wanted. He was yelling because he did not like not being in control of her. He wanted to feel important and in control. Scared is the correct term in this context. I was there by chance.” Solas tried to answer all of the spirits questions. It was not everyday that you met a spirit of curiosity, they were always moving from place to place to learn everything they could. He knew he would never see this spirit again, in a couple minutes it would leave.

“By chance? How curious! I wonder how you were there by chance? How did you come here again? Why do you look so different? Why are you different in the inside? You do not feel the same as then.” The spirit was now standing again, and examining Solas from head to toe.

“Yes, I would go there multiple times during the summer. I suppose it was the man who happened to be there by chance if you want to look at it that way. I came here to explore the memories, I had forgotten about that particular one-”

The spirit interrupted him, “Yes yes. But why are you different?”

“What differences do you mean?” he asked it.

“All of them! You look different, you feel different, you think different, why?”

“Because I was younger then.” _A simple answer would appease it more_ , he thought.

“Why do you not like yourself?” it asked suddenly. Solas just stared at the spirit blankly.

“I-”

The spirit interrupted him again. “Oh! I forgot! People do something called ageing. I do not understand it very well. It makes people think different of themselves, that’s what a woman told me. I will go ask Wisdom! She should know more! Goodbye Fen’Harel!” The spirit then faded out to find Wisdom.

 _Why do you not like yourself?_ The spirit’s question kept repeating itself in his head. His mind was blank. It wasn’t that he disliked himself, it was that he _loathed_ himself. The answer was more damning than the question. It was his turn to slump to the ground in anguish. It was his fault, all his fault. He did this, he caused this. If he would have thought it out more. If he would have not acted out in anger! He punched his fist into the ground. _All of my decisions, none have turned out as planned. When will this sad joke end? When will I wake up to find this was just a dream?_ His thoughts became aloud, then became yelling and finally sobbing. “I didn’t want this! I didn’t want any of this! My fault. All of this is my fault!”

He woke up sweating profusely. _I need some air._ He quietly exited his shared tent with Varric and sat by the fire, occasionally using his magic to let the flames grow and then extinguish as he cleared his head. A rustle of the other tent caught his attention, he watched An’aya turn towards him, she looked wide awake, full of energy but she still startled to see him.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked her as she sat down on a log across from him. Her messy red hair was down, something he had not yet seen, and it poofed on either side of her head. It made her look like a young child, what with her already young facial features. He almost chuckled.

“No, I have too much energy at the moment. And you? Why can’t you sleep?” she asked, her brown eyes wide. _Because I destroyed our people. You should have been living a flourished rich life. And now you have become not even a fraction of what you once were._

“Ah. I would prefer not to answer that. Let’s leave it at bad dreams.” he sighed. The guilt began to creep back up his body. He pushed it down as far as he could and tried to think of anything else to say.  

“Where did you learn to read? I thought that information was kept to those who wield magic in your clans,” he asked instead. _Those who know they wield magic._ That was another one of the things that had bothered him the most of this world. Every elf is born with a connection to the Fade, yet the _Dalish_ seemed to be completely unaware of that fact. He had even tried telling a clan once that if they all practiced and spent time drawing it out, every one of them would be a mage. He was met with blasphemous curses- containing his own name. Another wave of guilt came across him. This was also his fault. Solas fought it off by reaching for the dormant magic that lay in An’aya. It was there, of course, and particularly stronger for someone who was not “a natural” at it. The people who were particularly gifted at it was what the Dalish thought mages were. _If they would only be open to the truth._ But no, the Dalish acted like children, playing pretend at a culture he lost. Another thing, that was ultimately his fault.

“My mae was a first, she taught me the basics, and then I learnt on my own.” _That’s why her magic seems stronger, her mother was gifted._

“That’s quite impressive and resourceful of your mother. _Dirthas elvhen?_ ” _If her mother taught her to read, than surely she must have taught her elvhen. The little bit left that the Dalish have. My fault._

“ _Ma dirth elvhen, hahren,”_ she rolled her eyes at him. He was surprised at her fluency, perhaps she was not beyond help, maybe-. Maybe he could guide her? The thought then sparked a chain of others. _I can teach her, I can shape her. I can use her to fix this. I only need to push her in the right directions. Let her get close to me. No. I must maintain my distance. Close enough to mold then. I can fix this. I can use her to fix this. Not all hope is lost! Wait, what did she say?_ Solas had to replay her reply in his head, she called him _hahren_. He smirked.

“ _Ir abelas,_ I do not come across many of the Dalish that have a comprehensive knowledge of the language, _da’len_ ,” he challenged back at her. Solas watched as her face twisted into a grimace. _Such a funny little thing. She is a child trying to be an adult._ She reminded him of one of his old friend’s daughter. She too, had always been trying to prove herself and would always get herself into trouble because of that stubbornness. Solas couldn’t count the number of times he had to save the little thing from itself back then.

“I am no _da’len_!” she raised her voice and pouted like a child. Her face looked identical to his friend’s daughters’. Solas couldn’t help it anymore- he burst into laughter. It was too funny, watching a child try to deny it was a child. He hadn’t laughed that hard in what seemed like centuries. It was a refreshing distraction.

“If you keep acting like an angered child I will have to keep calling you that. Or would you prefer _ma gra’lin_ , as Mr.Tethras calls you.” He looked straight at her as he said it, wondering how she would react to it. Her reactions were fun to play with.

“Call me what you will, I am used to the teasing.” Solas watched as a faint blush spread unto her cheeks. She was embarrassed. _How cute._

“I did not mean it teasingly,” he responded. “Thank you for the distraction. We should rest, the day will be long tomorrow. _On nydha, ma gra’lin.”_ He stood up and pushed the flaps of his tent open to go back to bed. He could only imagine how red she must have turned as he left. He chuckled to himself once more before lying down to sleep. _A good distraction indeed._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A lot of theories-it might be confirmed, I don't know for sure- say that ALL the ancient elves had magic in the time of Arlathan. I toyed with the idea that if that was true, maybe it could still be true for the elves, but the elves had lost this knowledge. So their ties to the Fade lie dormant- which is why any of the elves who have not discovered their magic are not vulnerable to demons. This will probably show up in more detail in later chapters. I'm excited to play around with it. Hope you enjoyed this chapter.


	3. The Hinterlands Part 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> An'aya is reminded of old fears when the group runs into a stray group of Templars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And finally an update! Enjoy!

 

Calling the Hinterlands confusing would be an understatement. An’aya had found herself wandering in circles in the witchwood area not just once or twice but at least 5 times. The forest and scenery seemed to be the same everywhere she went. Same tree, same shrubs, same hills, same rams, same everything. It was utterly frustrating for her as she prided herself in being a skilled scout and hunter in her clan. _Not in this place apparently._ When they came across the rebel mage hideout again, she lost it.

“ _FENEDHIS_!” she screamed and kicked the giant ice structure in front of her hard enough that it came crashing down. If she were home, Tamlen could have helped her. He would, of course, laugh at her first and ruffle her hair before pointing out the obvious turn she missed, but he would be there all the same. Now, she was alone, her clan was weeks away, and she missed them terribly. She felt tears start to swell in her eyes so she turned away from the group, acting as if she were searching for a different way. While playing her act, she calmed her breathing, focusing on the movement of her chest and hoped that her eyes were no longer red.

“Chuckles, I don’t know that one, care to elaborate?” Varric asked.

“Literally it means Wolf Penis, but it’s used interchangeably as a curse word. Some use it as fuck or shit or dick. I do believe she is using it as “fuck” in this context,” he answered it as if he was explaining the history of fade magic, academic and in-depth.

Time to suck up her pride she thought. “Hey guys,” she looked to them all, “can I get some help finding my way out of here?”

“Thank the Maker you asked, I thought we were going to circle around here all day, let me lead you,” Cassandra was clearly enthusiastic. She also turned in the exact opposite direction of where An’aya would have gone- _of course_. At least they were finally getting the hell out of here, she couldn’t suffer circling the woods any longer. It also felt nice to hear Cassandra respond in a light-hearted tone, if it were in any other tone, An’aya might have broken down. Cassandra clearly knew exactly where she was going, _why didn’t they say anything?_ Self-consciousness and suspicion bore down on her in an instant and suddenly she was questioning every ones motives for doing any single act in the past hour. She hated that she was like this, but she had yet to be able to calm down and relax fully in front of anyone. Her clan taught her to be wary of anyone who was not Dalish. This idea was ingrained in her head as a child, it had become a part of her. She made an effort to try though, to open up a bit. Small parts were given up here and there, but all that she met were still mostly strangers, except for this small group. The fears were still there, though, she couldn’t help it, she was still young.

“Why didn’t any of you offer help if you knew which way to go?”, she questioned, looking over at Varric and Solas trailing next to her.

“Red, you’re so stubborn you would have gone the other way just to spite us all,” Varric replied chuckling. Under his breath, he added, “stubborn ass child.” An’aya stuck her tongue out at him and then laughed, both out of relief and humor. _Thank the Creators._ There was no reason to be suspicious, they were just waiting for her to give in. She didn’t know exactly how it came to be, but in these past weeks Varric had made her feel more at home than anything or anyone else. No longer was he a strange dwarf, but something more like an uncle to her. He let her feel care and worry free, always making her laugh and bringing happiness into her day to day with his stories. Some nights she would stay up for hours always asking for one more tale of the champion’s adventures. Varric would always comply and even sneak her drinks when no one was looking. Their little secret.

“Probably,” she smiled at him. Varric just shook his head laughing.

After walking a bit of way out, An’aya could spot the road again. _Finally!_ She had never been happier to see flattened ground in her entire life. An’aya was about to run to the road when Solas grabbed her roughly by the arm and pulled her back hard enough for her trip over her feet. If she weren’t skilled in balance, she would have surely fell to the ground.

“What-” she started to question; bewildered at the fact that he would ever be rough with her in any way.

“Da’len, I sense more templars ahead, let us proceed with caution.” Solas let go of her arm as soon as he grabbed it and motioned to the left of the road. An’aya could see one standing by the entrance to the forest periodically looking into it. A shiver ran from her head all the way down to her spine. She thought they had rid the area of them, but every once in a while they would run into a stray group. Templars scared her; more than the demons even. She started to remember a time when she was barely 12, playing in the river with her clanmates. Raena, her best friend growing up, was using her magic to splash the other kids during their water fight. It had turned into a full blown war quickly, with Raena and An’aya on one team, and Tamlen, Yevven, Sarel and Neria on the other. Obviously Raena and An’aya were winning on account of Raena’s magic. Their fun though quickly turned into anguish. A trio of templars had yelled out, pointing at Raena, and running towards them.

“LET’S GO! RUN!” Neria, the oldest at 15, ordered right away, “Protect Raena at _all costs.”_ Though no one needed reminding of Raena’s importance to the clan as second. An’aya remembered it being the first time she ever felt true fear as she grabbed at Raena and they ran. The woods rushed past them in a blur as they used all their might to run away. She could hear the blood pumping in her ears, feel it in her chest, her vision blurring out of panic, Raena’s feet hitting the ground next to her, her labored breaths. Green seemed to be flying by as they weaved in and out of the trees taking continuous turns in order to confuse the shems, they didn’t know the forest like the dalish did. They were going to take the long route that lead them behind their camp instead of the direct one that Neria and Yevven took. An’aya couldn’t remember which way Tamlen went, but it was worth thinking about. Unfortunately, it distracted her enough to trip over a large branch mid sprint and fall directly onto rocks. All she could feel was a sharp pain on her skull and something wet running down her face as her vision blurred more so. She remembered Raena yelling as she looked back at An’aya and rushed to her side dousing her with a simple healing spell.

“An’aya, c’mon, you have to get up,” Raena told her as she dragged An’aya up, but she was still dizzy and her vision still blurry. She could, however, hear a body running towards them shouting at them to keep running, the voice belonged to Tamlen, and she could hear more footsteps behind him. An’aya tried to stand up with Raena’s help but ultimately fell back down as her vision started to dot black and another wave of dizziness filled her body. She wasn’t going to be able to get back up. _I am going to die here._ That was the last clear thought she had before going in and out of consciousness as she fell back to the ground. Then all she was able to remember was Raena’s screams, images of templars doing something to Raena that made her quiet. She remembered being lifted up briefly and then dropped down again. She remembered magic and arrows coming from the opposite direction, more screaming and yelling; and then waking up in her Aravel, Tamlen curled up next to her.

Her stirring awoke Tamlen, he looked at her briefly before he bursted into tears and held onto her. “They took- they- the templars,” he sobbed in between each break, “Raena is gone! They took her!” An’aya remembered a wave of emptiness and nausea hitting her as she jumped to her feet out of the Aravel. The elders were all gathered together arguing as Raena’s ma wept in their Keepers arms.  An’aya ran. She heard someone call her name but ignored it as She ran as fast as she could to the spot she remembered last. Ignoring her dizziness and the pounding pain in her head. She reached the spot and saw scorch marks upon the ground, bushes flattened and a stray icicle in a tree. Immediately she threw up. It was true, the templars took her best friend and all she could do was weep beneath a maple tree.

An’aya felt sick again as she looked over to Cassandra silently asking if they were good to go. Cassandra gave her a “go” and An’aya let an arrow fly straight through the neck of the soldier, he fell to the ground to die choking on his own blood. _Serves them right._ Two more templars charged at them, as a few arrows flew past her. She scanned the scene and saw two coming down to meet them and three archers in the background. She felt a barrier go up around her in an instant as she began to retreat back with Solas as Cassandra met the templars head on and Varric weaved in and out of the bulk of the fight. The two groundsmen teamed up on Cassandra, but no one was worried. Cassandra was a beast in battle and easily could handle the two on her own if they let her. An’aya focused her arrows on the marksman farthest from her, Varric was handling the one closest to them and Solas was firing icy blasts at the two templars attacking Cassandra. She made off with the farthest templar marksman and began to aim at the one slowly working their way into the woods. She couldn’t figure out if he was aiming at Solas or Cassandra when she was hit very bluntly with a shield to her side.

“No! An’aya!” she heard Solas yell as another barrier covered her. An’aya just watched helplessly unable to move out of terror from her spot on the ground as the templar lifted his blade. Suddenly the templar was frozen and then fell into small pieces of frozen organs, skin and blood in front of her. Nausea overcame her, and all she could do was lift herself onto her hands and knees and throw up her breakfast from earlier this morning as tears ran down her face. Flashes of the templars from her childhood and of Raena's face appeared in front of her. They seemed so real she swore she could reach out and grab little Raena.

**Author's Note:**

> Next chapter will be twice as long to make up for you patient people. Creators bless your souls.


End file.
